


Bittersweet, Irresistible, a Crawling Beast

by LittleMissWolfie



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Book 4: The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson), F/F, Fem!Percy Jackson - Freeform, Gay Awakening, Latino Percy Jackson, Sappho - Freeform, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissWolfie/pseuds/LittleMissWolfie
Summary: Again love, the limb-loosener, rattles mebittersweet,irresistible,a crawling beast.-SapphoAfter exploding a volcano, Penny Jackson wakes up on an island with only one other inhabitant, and she leaves with a better understanding of herself and her relationship with her best friend.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Calypso & Percy Jackson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128





	Bittersweet, Irresistible, a Crawling Beast

**Author's Note:**

> I know genderbends aren't in style anymore, but I really love the idea of Percy being a girl, tbh. I won't explain why her name is Penny here because it's a joke I'd like to save for another installment if this gets enough attention. This fic takes place in the whole of Chapter 12: I Take a Permanent Vacation and the beginning of Chapter 13: We Hire a New Guide in Battle of the Labyrinth, and some dialogue is directly lifted from the text. I hope you enjoy!

When Penny Jackson woke up after she caused Mount St. Helens to explode, the first thing she saw, other than the clear blue sky and the foliage from the trees above her, was a girl. The girl had a sweet voice and she took care of Penny, cleaning her off and feeding her nectar, and her singing made her pain go away. That was how Penny knew she wasn’t a normal mortal.

“Who--” Penny’s voice choked off, her throat too sore to speak. She struggled to sit up.

The girl’s gentle hands pressed into Penny’s shoulders to lie her back down. “Shh, brave one. Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso.”

And Penny went back to sleep.

*

The cave Penny woke in next was beautiful, so beautiful she wouldn’t have even called it a cave if it were possible to call it anything else. Silk curtains made haphazard rooms, including the one that housed the softest bed Penny had ever laid on, and she spied a loom, a harp, and several dried herbs. The herbs in specific reminded Penny of her mom, back in New York. She could have named them all. 

Then Penny smelled the beef stew, and her stomach growled.

She sat up in the bed and gave herself a quick examination to make sure she wasn’t horribly scarred. Her arms actually looked a lot better than she was expecting. They were a little thinner than the last time she looked at them, but the tawny skin was unmarred. She checked the pocket of her white drawstring pants to make sure her sword, Riptide, was still there, along with the Stygian ice dog whistle. The second part wasn’t as reassuring as the first. She’d had Riptide since she was twelve. It was almost like a comfort item for her; it was a weapon, sure, but it was one of the only constants in her ever-dangerous life. 

With a great amount of difficulty, Penny stood. The floor was cold under her bare feet, but she forgot to complain about it when she came face to face with a bronze mirror and was able to take in her appearance.

She looked awful. She’d lost weight she hadn’t really had in the first place, and her black hair, which used to reach down to her hips, was charred and singed at uneven angles, and her green eyes were lined with dark bags. 

Penny turned away from the mirror and went outside, towards the sunlight.

The girl, Calypso, stood on the beach of a lake, and she turned to Penny when she heard her. “Well,” she said, “the sleeper finally awakes.”

*

“Who is Annabeth?” Calypso asked later, after she fed Penny some more nectar and convinced her to bathe. Her hair was still abysmal, but she decided to wait until she had access to a pair of scissors to try to take care of that. 

_ Annabeth. _ “My best friend,” Penny said. “We were together when--” She gestured vaguely to the sky, where Calypso said she’d fallen from. They were on the mythical island of Ogygia, where some heroes came to heal. Time was strange on the island, Penny had found. She had no idea how much time had passed since she first woke up. She hoped it hadn’t been too long. “I have to get back to her.”

“Just to her?”

A flush spread across Penny’s cheeks. “Well, not  _ just _ her. To Grover and Tyson. To camp. They need me.”

Calypso reached out with one of her gentle hands to cup Penny’s cheek.  _ “You _ need to rest. You won’t be of any use to them until you’re healed.”

And Penny fell back to sleep.

*

Penny woke up to the night. Just as she had last time she woke up, she made her way outside, to where Calypso was waiting, watching the stars in the sky. Penny’s head tilted up as well, searching for and seeing the constellations Annabeth had taught her. Annabeth taught Penny almost everything she found useful in life; Ancient Greek, the stories of their people, how to fight, how to avoid fights. Annabeth was brilliant like that.

“Penny, what do you see?”

Her eyes turned back to the beautiful girl next to her. And she  _ was _ beautiful. Penny was pretty sure she could say that with relative safety, since she’d met the goddess of love last winter. 

She helped Calypso plant the moonlace in her garden because she couldn’t remember what else she was doing. “It can only be planted at night,” Calypso said.

“What does it do?” Penny asked.

“It lives. It gives light. It provides beauty.” Calypso shrugged. “Does it need to do anything else?”

“I guess not.”

Calypso sat back on her feet. “I love my garden,” she said to Penny, gazing out over the evidence of her hard work.

And so Penny talked about her mom, and the garden she always wanted. She talked about the apartment they lived in in Manhattan, and the one they’d lived in before, in El Barrio, with Smelly Gabe and his sleazy friends who didn’t think anything was wrong with staring at a little girl. And, in turn, Calypso told Penny about her punishment.

“Are you healed yet, my brave one? Do you think you’ll be ready to leave soon?”

Penny had no answer.

*

The more time Penny spent on the island, the more she found herself staring at Calypso.

It was a little strange, if she was being honest. She remembered the stories Annabeth told her about Calypso, and about the heroes sent to her for her to fall in love with. She’d always felt bad for Calypso, who’d done nothing wrong but was punished anyway, but she couldn’t understand why  _ she _ was sent here in the first place.

Because male heroes came to Calypso. Because those were the heroes Calypso fell in love with.

The closer Penny tried to get to Calypso, the more she pulled away.

*

Hephaestus came to the island to tell Penny everyone thought she was dead.

Well, first he told her Annabeth got home safe, which was a relief. Penny didn’t know what she would do if Annabeth was hurt somewhere because she was stuck on this island.  _ Then _ he mentioned the everyone-thinks-you’re-dead thing. 

“You didn’t tell them I was alright?” Penny asked.

“It wasn’t mine to say,” Hephaestus said. “I had to make sure you were coming back before I told anyone where you were.”

“Of course I’m coming back!” Penny said, burning hot. Why  _ wouldn’t _ she come back to the only home she’s ever known? To her only friends, to her family, to the place she first felt like she belonged?

Hephaestus pulled a metal disk out of his pocket and showed her a news clip of Mount St. Helens erupting. The newscaster said the governor ordered an evacuation and that all traffic within a hundred miles is shut down.

“I didn’t do that,” Penny said. “I couldn’t have. I’m not powerful enough.”

Hephaestus gave her a dry look. “You’re the daughter of the Earthshaker, girl. You don’t know your own strength.”

“What do I do?”

“You’ve met my wife, right?” Penny nodded. “Then you know to be careful with love. It will twist you all around. Now,” he said, drawing up to a fuller height, “if you do decide to leave this island, I promised you an answer to your quest. Will you leave?”

Penny wanted to say yes. But she hesitated.

Hephaestus must have seen the reluctance in her face. “Don’t decide yet. Wait until daybreak. Daybreak is a good time for decisions.”

*

“He ordered you to leave,” Calypso guessed when Penny returned to her.

“He gave me a choice,” Penny corrected.

“I promised I wouldn’t offer.”

“Offer what?”

“For you to stay.”

“Forever?”

“You would be immortal on this island,” Calypso said instead of answering. “You would never have to fight again. You could escape your prophecy.”

Penny stared. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

It was tempting. So,  _ so  _ tempting. Living with this prophecy over her head for the past few years was exhausting. She had to be constantly on the lookout for monsters or axe-crazy demigods. But… “My friends.”

Calypso nodded, like she expected Penny’s refusal. She took Penny’s hand. “When the gods first sent you to me,” she said, voice soft, like she didn’t actually want Penny to hear her, “I was confused. They’ve never sent a woman to me before. But they’re tricky like that, aren’t they? They knew I would fall in love with you anyway.”

Heat flared in Penny’s face. “Me?”

Calypso laughed, but it was humorless. “Yes, you.”

“But I’m… I’m a girl. And I’m just me.”

Calypso rolled her eyes. “Men weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the company of their own gender in the ancient times, my brave one. Many of us were of Sappho’s ilk, as well.”

Penny recognized the name “Sappho.” Annabeth liked to read her poetry sometimes, but she never let Penny read any. Her face went all red anytime she asked. “Sappho?”

“A poet,” Calypso explained. “One of the best. Homer was ‘The Poet.’ Sappho was ‘The Poetess.’ She was well known for her love of women.” Her hand cupped Penny’s cheek again. “And being ‘just you’ is more than enough for someone to love you, Penny Jackson.” Then she pulled away. “You could stay.”

“I can’t,” Penny said. Her mind was still reeling. Was she one of ‘Sappho’s ilk,’ like Calypso thought she was? She thought about Annabeth, beautiful Annabeth, with her blonde hair and fiery gray eyes and wicked mind, and she thought that, yeah, maybe she was. 

Maybe she liked Annabeth.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Penny continued, more sure of herself now, “but I have to get home. I’m the only one who can help my friends.”

The sun started to peek over the horizon.  _ Daybreak is a good time for decisions. _

Calypso nodded and, bending over at the waist, plucked a sprig of moonlace from her garden. She tucked it into the pocket of Penny’s Camp Half-Blood shirt, brushing over her chest with light fingers in a way that made Penny blush. “Plant me a garden in Manhattan?” she asked.

“Of course,” Penny said. If she couldn’t stay with Calypso and ease her loneliness, this was the least she could do.

“Then come with me to the beach, my hero,” Calypso said, tears burning in her eyes. “Let us get you home.”

*

Hours later, Penny’s raft washed up on the shore of Camp Half-Blood. The camp seemed deserted, which was disquieting, so she tiptoed her way to the amphitheater, where she could see smoke rising into the air.

And she stumbled into her own funeral.

No one looked as she came up to the back of the crowd. They probably thought she was just another camper without looking, and they were all focused ahead, where Annabeth was holding a green silk cloth with a trident to the fire. Penny’s burial shroud. Her eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying, but she managed to say, “She was probably the bravest friend I’ve ever had. She…” Then, her eyes latched on to Penny, and her face went blood red. “She’s right there!”

Campers turned and swarmed her, hugging her and clapping her on the shoulder, but nothing felt  _ right _ until Annabeth barrelled towards her and hugged her so tight her newly-healed ribs groaned in protest. Penny thought of Calypso, of Sappho, of Annabeth here, and she knew, instinctually, that this was it for her.  _ Annabeth _ was it. 

Even if she didn’t feel the same way Penny felt about her, she would never love someone the same way she loved Annabeth. Nothing would ever change that.

_ Thank you, Calypso, _ she thought, imagining the lonely girl on her island with her garden and her lake.  _ I’ll never forget you. _

And she hugged Annabeth back.


End file.
